


Dancing

by Anonymous



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Lapdance, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:26:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Layton has been assigned to help the police with guarding an important artifact at a party. With Emmy joining him, can the two effectively keep watch for any thieves? What if one of them wants a dance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing

The night was young and the floors of the ballroom were full of energetic dancers guiding their partners across its porcelain surface. A live band played their jig on stage, lighting a fire in many that heard its tune. It was one that many were familiar with: a light, airy salsa. It would have been an exciting experience, if not for the fact that this was all business.

Yes, Hershel Layton elected to help out Scotland Yard with another particular case. A stake-out, so to speak. One of London’s famous museums was having gala in light of its newest exhibit. However, around the same time, there was a string of robberies that have occurred around the city, many to do with priceless artifacts. Scared of the possibility of another valuable to be snatched away, a lot of Scotland Yard’s officers were employed for guard detail. It still begged the question…

“Why were you needed? Isn’t the place well-guarded as is?” questioned a confused assistant.

“One, two, three—Twirl,” he recited to himself. Layton held Emmy’s hand and allowed for a swift spin before continuing their cautious, but quickly paced movement. “Ah, it is fairly guarded, but unfortunately, the last few circumstances were exactly the same… The artifacts in question were watched under careful eye to be poached by an unknown intruder. Few were able to even trace any traits of the thief.”

Emmy blinked. “So they had you come along with them to search for some phantom thief and you haven’t a clue of what they look like!?”

“That…seems to be the case. I’m sorry that you had to be pulled along. Posing as a rich philanthropist and his wife is a rather hard guise to try alone,” he looked away with a small, restrained chuckle.

Emmy made a comforting smile. “Oh, please! You know I’m always more than happy to help you out whenever, Professor! I’ll even be whoever you want me to be in your disguises. Your girlfriend, your wife, even your… ‘partner’, if you so choose it.”

The woman reveled in the coloring of his face and loss of coordination. She saw the gears turning in his head as he recovered and was back in tempo with the music. He was lost as to what move he planned to do next. Was it another few steps? A twirl? A gentle dip?

“Ahem… Yes, well, I’m happy to know your level of cooperation extends beyond what I normally ask of you.”

The woman helped him along and drew herself back, holding him within arms’ length. After pulling him back again, their hips met intimately for a moment before they continued their shuffle. Noting how rigid and slow his motions became, she chuckled at him. His eyes glanced away from hers, the laughter tickling the recesses of his mind. It became difficult for him to focus on dancing, let alone keep an eye out for any strange happenings.

“You’re dancing as stiff as a robot!” Emmy shook her head lightly. “Relax…”

He wanted his mind to stop racing along with his poor heart, otherwise his movements won’t be the only matter stiff about him. Muttering his reply, he continued dancing with her to the best of his ability. Layton found his eyes on his partner, noting her lips curling with subtle mirth. Her tongue met the edge of her mouth every so often when the tempo change.

“Professor!”

Suddenly embarrassed, his focus was back to her. “Erm… Yes?”

“Let’s try that one move! You know the one.” Determination filled her brown eyes.

“Emmy, I know we’ve practiced it before coming here, but... We haven’t successfully managed without one of us bumping into the other. Also we have to remain vigilant, the fun may come after everything’s safe.”

“Just this once? Pleeeeease?” She urged on, tugging him a bit by the cuffs of his suit.

“I…I suppose this once can’t hurt… But please, remain on guard.”

“You have my word.”

He twirled her around to where her back faced him. In unison, they began stepping in beat with the rhythm. The two held on to each other’s hands and moved their hips lightly with every passing motion.  All was fine for the moment, until...

Emmy stepped back too early in comparison to Layton, causing her backside to grind against his hips. A very audible, choking gasp left his lips. Before long, she was gently pushed aside whilst he turned away, coughing. When she turned to him, he was frantically looking about, making sure no one’s eyes were on him. She then tried to walk in front of him, but he jerked away almost instantly.

“Professor? What’s the matter?”

“I… Excuse me. I should be right back fairly soon-”

She pulled his arm, turning him around. The realization hit her as to why he was trying his best to flee. His eyes looked shamefully to the floor, cheeks stained red in embarrassment. What was once a small subtle bump grew into a fairly noticeable tent, one of which he desperately tried to pull his jacket over. Emmy gave a small, knowing smile at him.

Leaning up to his ear, she whispered, “So, that’s what’s got you so riled up. …I could always…make it quick.”

“Absolutely not! This is a gala, Emmy. One of which I was supposed to keep watch of any suspicious activity.”

In a bold move, she placed her knee in between his legs. “The only suspicious activity at the moment is what’s going on with you.”

He inhaled softly through his nose before looking off to the distance. Unbelievable, he was actually considering this. The amount of urgency and ache hit him as soon as he glanced downwards again. Her smirk grew when he finally lifted his head to her.

“We can have a personal dance together if you want,” she added.

“…Fine. You win.”

Giving him a loving, but quick squeeze, she took him by the hand and guided him through the dancing crowds. They approached a simple mahogany door in the back of the fairly large room. He expected it to be locked, but sure enough, it wasn’t and conveniently vacant. Almost TOO conveniently, the man thought to himself. As almost a reminder of his body’s ailment, his member twitched when she quickly pulled him inside. He internally chastised himself. Some gentleman he was, easily bewitched and convinced to this entire arrangement by his assistant!

Woe was his rapidly deteriorating self-control.

It was a dark exhibit-made-storage room for all the chairs and miscellaneous furniture the museum had. Because of the walls being rather thin, the music from the outside flowed in serenely. Dulcet, slow jazz filled their ears.

“Now then… Shall we dance?”

“Emmy… You said this would be quick—I must be back before anything too eventful happens without my knowing.”

“My, my… I didn’t think you’d be that eager to begin.”

Another agonizing twitch. She was messing with him. Although he felt much too distracted to go back outside, how long could he wait? He would simply have to play along… for now.

The man held his tongue as he approached her and wrapped his arms around her. Drawing the woman close, he began his waltz with her across the room. A few times he poked against her; and those few times he could practically feel her skin underneath the red evening dress she wore. Its fabric was far too smooth and thin for him to bare. What he would give to rip it from her…

“If looks could kill…” she started.

“Please excuse my waning patience,” he responded in a lower growl than expected. “But please, we’re running out of time.”

She leaned against him and cooed into his ear. “Not even enough time for one lapdance?”

His heart stopped. “L-Lap…”

“Yes. If you would kindly find a seat, I’d be happy to.”

His eyes darted around for a suitable seat that would cost minimal effort to retrieve. Unsteady, feverish hands grabbed the nearest chair. Once he quickly sat in place, he looked to her with a shy, welcoming smile. She returned the smile before easing into his lap.

In moments, he let out a gentle groan. She moved with the music, slow and steady. Hershel found himself sinking into the chair in delight. As friction built against his erection, he began rocking his hips slowly along with her. The poor heart in his chest began to race as his movement became erratic.

_Click!_

A button came undone during the exchange. It didn’t go unheard by the woman as she turned to see that Hershel was looking away. Upon closer inspection, his pants were loose, giving a peek of velvet red. However nice looking his underwear was, that wasn’t quite as interesting as what gave its irregular shape. She pulled down both articles of clothing with ease, causing him to spring up.

Emmy looked up to see him watching her intently with a steeled, lustful gaze. Light, clear fluids leaked from the very tip as his lips curled to a mischievous smile. The woman wasn’t sure where to keep her attention focused on. However, the answer soon made itself known when he lifted her chin for their eyes to meet yet again.

“So happy I finally have your attention… Now perhaps we can… alleviate this issue.”

He would be more than obliged at this point to yank up her dress for easier access. It was very tempting, but her dress was form-fitting. It would make the process much harder to accomplish. He’ll have to simply take it off, not that it bothers him very much.

He held her frame close and whispered into her ear. Emmy, nodding her affirmatives, turned around to reveal the zipper on the back of her dress. Unzipping allowed the dress to slip past her torso and down her legs. The few sconces along the walls illuminated her porcelain skin and dark brown hair, giving her a halo.

“You’re…beautiful,” he murmured.

Feminine giggles filled the air. She would find the sentiment innocuous, if not for particular part of him throbbing against her backside. As she faced him again, his fingers hooked onto the dress gathering at her waist and pulled it down to her ankles. Cream-colored lingerie covered the remaining parts of her body.

One of his hands moved aside her underwear while the other held at her hip. She eased onto him, taking in his thickness wholly. By the time she met his hips, she struggled to grab his shoulders. Emmy could feel her walls stretch accordingly and finally tighten to grasp him. Her hands’ grip on him tensed as well.

He let out a choked gasp. It was too long since he felt the familiarity of another; moist, warm, and tight. But it was not the time for getting acquainted again. Satisfaction, as well as giving it in a set amount of time, was of the outmost importance. His partner was already at work, rising and lowering onto him. Returning her motions, he bucked his hips as well; slow from the start but with growing ferocity.

Hershel looked into her glazed-over eyes and judged how she faired. She was close, but not enough to reach the sweet release she craved. There was an itch that needed to be scratched; a particular point in which she tried angling herself to find the right spot. As he paused, he raised his hips in an arch and lifted her up.

In mere seconds, her mouth opened for a moan with minimal drool leaving her lips. If her eyes weren’t closed, she would see the devious smirk that crossed his face. The tickling sensation in her was turning into a burning one, building pressure in her abdomen. She felt his hand trail down her body to where they connected, catching skin by the fingertips. Around and around his forefinger rubbed, teasing the very sensitive and active nub. She saw it almost instantaneously, stars and heavenly masses converging.

Her walls squeezed and clung onto to his pulsing cock, dragging out his own release. With one final push, she screamed as she was taken by following aftershocks. After the two came from their high, Emmy pulled away to wearily sit on his leg, smiling in dazed delight.

Hershel leaned his head in. “How are you feeling?”

 

Breathless, she could only answer, “Fantastic…”

Chuckles erupted from him. “That’s good. Ahem, I don’t mean to spoil our time alone… but we best head back before the police notice our absence. After all, it’s probably been twenty-five, maybe thirty minutes.”

She only offered a disappointed mumble before cleaning herself off and moving to redress. However, not without a small, apologetic kiss from him. Seeing that their attire was in order, the couple headed back outside to see a large crowd concentrated by the front of the museum. The officers that were present kept the gathering at bay whilst a mustached man in dark green coat and pants walked with another man in handcuffs.

“Oi! There you two are!” the man gruffly beckoned them.

Without skipping a beat, Layton answered back, “Good evening, Inspector Chelmey. I see you’ve caught your thief.”

“Hah, apparently this guy got spooked from some moaning and screaming. He came running out like a guy possessed!” he gave a boastful laugh “My boys were waiting all along the place and nabbed him. But less on that and more on you. You two ‘ere gone for fifty minutes to an hour! Where the heck were you!?”

Emmy felt a sinking feeling in her chest and smiled nervously in response. Just as she was in process of slinking away, her wrist was held firm by the professor. He didn’t bat an eye, even giving a small squeeze, a silent affirmation that it was best she kept still.

“Is that so? I’m sorry for troubling you greatly and going against our formal agreement. Emmy thought it’d be best if we stayed hidden elsewhere and we merely spooked him after she suggested to ‘make the museum haunted’ so to speak.”

He grumbled a bit under his breath before continuing. “I guess I can’t complain. It did get the job done. Good thing the artifact was a decoy, if that were the real thing, it would have been TOO close of a shave… Thanks for the good work, both of you.”

He turned to walk off with a small wave, ushering the caught thief through doorway.

Noting that he as well as the dispersing crowd were out of earshot, Layton turned back to his assistant. “Fifty minutes,” he declared. “Fifty minutes we were back there, immersed in our activity. This is not only my time that was as stake, but the police AND the museum.”

Her cheeks glowed red and again she chuckled in nervousness, not used to the authoritative tone in his voice. She felt a shiver run down her spine. Was it of actual nervousness or anticipation? A quick glance of his stern-ridden features told her of the latter.

“Please inform me, how much time is lost collectively?” He raised an eyebrow.

The woman blinked as she calculated the amount of time in her head. “Er… about two hours, thirty minutes…”

“Two hours and thirty minutes of time,” Layton pulled down his hat over his eyes and shook his head. “No matter, I suggest you come with me.”

“Eh? Where are we going now?”

“A suitable arrangement for a suitable punishment. Now, right this way.” With a gentle tug of her wrist, she was directed back in the very place they had their reverie, away from public eye.

Emmy found it difficult to walk out of the museum that night.

 


End file.
